


(fake) blood stains

by aalphard



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempt at Humor, Banter, M/M, Oikawa Tooru is a Mess, rated m for the suggestiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:35:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26268079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aalphard/pseuds/aalphard
Summary: “Got something to say?” He asks over his shoulder and Tooru freezes on the spot. He tells himself he’s only shivering because he’s in his underwear and that makes him feel cold. It’s definitely because of the hot axe murderer next to him.“It’s none of my business, really,” Tooru manages to choke out. “But I need to know if you’re really an axe murderer.”“Excuse me?” He chuckles.“Or you could also be some sort of, uh, knife murderer? Machete murderer? Any-kind-of-weapon murderer?”The guy raises his eyebrows and bites his bottom lip and Tooru takes a step back instinctively.“I mean, you have to tell me if you are. At least give me time to run away,” he continues. “My day has been shit but I don’t want to die yet, you know? I’ve got a lot to live for. And I still didn’t find a new boyfriend, so could you at least wait until I find someone and like, get to do the do one last time?”or tooru encounters a (fake) axe murderer while doing his laundry in the middle of the night.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 16
Kudos: 150





	(fake) blood stains

**Author's Note:**

> based on this prompt:
>
>> i’m in my underpants in a laundromat waiting for my clothes to get washed and your clothes are in the machine next to mine and i noticed that when you put your clothes in they were all covered in blood what the fuck

The day was ill-omened from the beginning, he thinks, one of those unlucky days when every little detail seems to go wrong. And, surely, there are some days not even his lucky rocket ship underwear could fix – today was _definitely_ one of those days. He woke up at the usual time and had his usual cup of coffee at the coffee shop in front of his house. He styled his hair the same way he always did and he wore his red necktie with that one plain white shirt that people said looked good. He did everything he always did _and_ he even wore his lucky rocket ship underpants. Not that it mattered, because it was still a shitty day.

First of all, he bumped into someone at the coffee shop and they spilled their drink on his crotch. It didn’t stain but it wasn’t pleasant walking around with a wet spot weirdly positioned. He got a lot of comments about it. And then, to make everything worse, he had a weird kid get weirdly attached to him as he was crossing the street and ended up kneeling down right on top of a puddle and got mud on his pants. Maybe it was a sign from the heavens that he should, in fact, go out to buy new pants.

And _then_ , as if all of that wasn’t enough already, it started to rain – _badly._ And because there wasn’t anything on the forecast this morning about _torrential rain_ , he didn’t even think about grabbing an umbrella. And _yes_ , he got soaked, and _yes_ , it did get worse because _why wouldn’t it get worse?_

That’s why Tooru is currently standing in front of a washing machine in a sketchy and deserted laundromat this late at night. It’s located in a dimly-lit corner close to home but he doesn’t have a washing machine and his clothes _really_ needed a wash. Especially his pants. He makes a mental note to go out and _buy new pants, for fucks sake_. He’s half naked and cold, standing barefoot on the freezing floor, only in his lucky rocket ship underwear. Which is fine, he tells himself, because no one decides to wash their clothes at two in the morning.

But _of course_ someone would decide to do it on the very day he had to stand there half naked because this was definitely the worst day of his life and he decides, right as the bell chimes when someone opens the door, that he’ll never leave the house ever again.

“Uh, hi,” he hears. “I can come back some other time?”

“No, no,” Tooru waves his hands in the air, not daring to look at the man. “You have your washing to do. I’ll be done in a few minutes, anyway. Don’t mind me.”

The man doesn’t answer but promptly walks towards the machine right next to his. _You’ve got to be kidding me_ , he thinks, closing his eyes and trying to remember how to breathe. He’s attractive, Tooru notices, with beautiful eyes and messy hair. His skin looks smooth and Tooru wonders if it’s as soft as he thinks it is. He almost reaches up to touch him, but regains his senses as soon as he takes his clothes out of the bag they were brought in.

And he freezes.

Because _of course_ someone who came in to do laundry at two in the morning would be a weird axe murderer and sure, it was a shitty day and Tooru decided he’d never leave the house ever again but his plans didn’t exactly include _being murdered at the sketchy laundromat after witnessing his murderer washing his blood-stained clothes_. Or maybe he just had a nosebleed, Tooru tries to reason. Or maybe he just helped someone who got shot or whatever. But of course none of those things would explain the amount of blood he’s seeing. He thinks he’s one step away from passing out.

“Got something to say?” He asks over his shoulder and Tooru freezes on the spot. He tells himself he’s only shivering because he’s in his underwear and that makes him feel cold. It’s definitely because of the hot axe murderer next to him. 

“It’s none of my business, really,” Tooru manages to choke out. “But I need to know if you’re really an axe murderer.”

“Excuse me?” He chuckles.

“Or you could also be some sort of, uh, knife murderer? Machete murderer? Any-kind-of-weapon murderer?”

The guy raises his eyebrows and bites his bottom lip and Tooru takes a step back instinctively.

“I mean, you have to tell me if you are. At least give me time to run away,” he continues. “My day has been shit but I don’t want to die yet, you know? I’ve got a lot to live for. And I still didn’t find a new boyfriend, so could you at least wait until I find someone and like, get to do the do one last time?”

“What makes you think I’d try to murder you?” He asks, still chuckling.

Tooru pretends he doesn’t see the way Potential Axe Murderer eyes him down, eyes glued to his crotch for a little longer than necessary. He clicks his tongue, shaking his head. The guy widens his eyes and _actually_ laughs, throwing his head back and clutching at his stomach, shaking his head.

“You mean the clothes?” He wipes away a tear. “No, that was something else. Those aren’t mine.”

“That just makes everything worse, then!” Tooru takes another step back, throwing his arms in front of him in a futile attempt to protect himself. “You’re getting rid of the evidence! You’re an axe murderer and I’m an eye witness and now you’re going to kill me because I found out about this whole thing!”

“Are you always this lively at two in the morning?” He asks. “I’m not an axe murderer.”

“Knife murderer, then?”

“I’m not one of those either,” he giggles, shaking his head and looking at Tooru like he was insane. “I’m not a murderer, those aren’t real blood stains. That’s fake blood, like the thing they use on TV? I’m helping a friend out.”

Tooru lets his mouth hang open. Yeah, of course those aren’t real blood stains. If that guy was, in fact, a murderer, he doubts he’d still be alive to be having a chat with him. Of course he wouldn’t be a murderer. And what kind of murderer would he be if he washed his victims’ clothes after killing them? Definitely stupid.

“Oh, and also,” he chuckles. “That,” he points at Tooru. “That would’ve been really sexy if we weren’t doing out laundry in the middle of the night. And if you hadn’t called me an axe murderer as soon as you saw me. And, of course, if your underwear wasn’t like a kid’s.”

“Hey!” Tooru giggles. “I can be very sexy when I want to, Mr. Axe Murderer.”

“I thought we were past that already?”

Tooru shakes his head but doesn’t manage to hide the smile tugging his lips up. The guy truly is good-looking and all of a sudden he doesn’t feel like being half naked is a bad thing at all. He _did_ , in fact, just tell him how it would’ve been sexy if they weren’t doing their laundry in the middle of the night. Maybe that would be the start of his new cliché love story. It would be pretty awkward to tell people how they met, though.

For a few minutes, they were just standing there as the machines hummed, clothes swirling beneath a froth of water, cheap detergent and fabric softener. On the good days, Tooru thinks, they’d have the good kind of detergent and nice fabric softener. Today, though, all they got was a weird sticky thing that looked like death – or, even, something sketchier than that but he decided he wouldn’t think too much about that. He still had to get home and he wouldn’t want to risk walking around only in his underpants in the middle of the night.

“Why are you half-naked?” The guy asks.

Tooru giggles, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Like what you see?”

“It would’ve been better if you weren’t wearing rocket ship underwear,” the guy comments. “But it’s not a bad sight. Do tell, then. We’ve got some time until those are done.”

“Or we could just watch the clothes swirling around and not talk to each other,” Tooru replies. “You told me you’re not a murderer but I can’t be sure of that, can I? You said those aren’t real blood stains, but I don’t know that. You’re doing your laundry in the middle of the night so there are very few reasons for me to believe you.”

“You’re also doing your laundry in the middle of the night, though,” he comments. “That and, _well_ , you’re standing here half-naked. Am I supposed to run from you? For all I know you could be some sort of creepy sexual predator, then. What would I do if you suddenly decide to grab me and do your weird stuff?”

“I wouldn’t,” Tooru smiles.

The guy looks somewhat disappointed. “So not even a weirdo would come at me, then? Man, am I lacking sex appeal or what?”

“That’s not what I meant!” Tooru corrects himself. “I wouldn’t just grab you out of the blue and… I’d take you out for dinner first, I guess. And then we’d talk and get to know each other before I actually jumped you, you know? I have morals.”

“You’d take me out for dinner, then?” He winks.

Tooru feels his cheeks burn at an alarmingly fast pace, his heart pounding in his chest. Something cold pools up in his tummy and he’s sure there are butterflies flying around in his bloodstream – because nothing else could explain the funny feeling climbing up his spine when their eyes met. He clears his throat and breaks off their eye contact, staring straight at the whirlpool his clothes make, round and round inside the washing machine. It should be done soon, he thinks, and then he could go home and leave this day behind.

“Can I ask you something?” The guy speaks up again.

Tooru nods, still refusing to look at him.

“Why are you in your underwear?” he asks with a chuckle. Tooru feels his cheeks burn again. “I mean, it’s really none of my business so you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. I just think it’s quite a funny sight.”

“I thought you said it was sexy?” He teases, giggling at the weird face the guy makes at him. “Today was a bad day, it’s all there is to it.”

“So you’re not just some creepy pervert,” the guy comments with a smirk. “One of my friends asked me to cover for one of his actors today. He’s a director for this weird horror play and they were having a rehearsal but he couldn’t make it in time.”

Tooru hums. “Is that why your clothes are covered in fake blood?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty gory,” he chuckles. “He promised me it would be fun and whatnot. But here I am, doing my laundry in a creepy ass laundromat next to a half-naked person who thought I was a serial killer. What a great day.”

“Everything went wrong today, apparently,” Tooru snickers. “But hey! We met precisely because today was a bad day for both of us, so in the end it wasn’t as bad, right?”

“I would’ve preferred meeting you some other time,” the guy rolls his eyes. “Preferably when you were, you know, _dressed_. Are you one of those people who strongly believe in fate and the stars and things like that?”

Tooru pouts. “You’re mean, Mr. Not An Axe Murderer. Has anyone ever told you that?”

“I get that sometimes, yeah,” he smirks.

He’s about to say something when his machine suddenly comes to a halt. The guy smiles at him before grabbing his phone from his pocket. Tooru sighs, opening the washing machine and grabbing his clothes before tiptoeing to the other side of the laundromat, now weirdly conscious of his lack of clothes. As he put his wet, freshly washed clothes inside the dryer, he might have turned around a few times to see if the handsome stranger was looking at him (he wasn’t).

“So,” he says, crossing his arms in front of his chest, staring at the guy’s back. He turns around slowly, eyebrows arched. “You never told me your name, Mr. Not An Axe Murderer.”

“To be fair,” he clears his throat and Tooru swears his knees just buckled under his weight. “You never told me yours either, so I guess we’re even,” he winks. “And besides, weren’t we just strangers who happened to be doing their laundry in the middle of the night? What happened to _or we could just watch the clothes swirling around and not talk to each other_ , then?”

Tooru pouts. “You’re _so_ mean…”

“You were the one who said that,” he shrugs, a wicked grin on his face. “And then you said you’d take me out for dinner before you jumped me, if I recall correctly.”

He _did_ say that, didn’t he?

“I’ll take you out for dinner if you tell me your name,” he winks.

“Now that’s something else that would’ve been incredibly sexy if we weren’t in a laundromat in the middle of the night _and_ if you weren’t wearing the rocket ship underwear. And, you know, the whole murderer thing.”

“You’ve already made your point, Mr. Not An Axe Murderer,” Tooru rolls his eyes.

The man chuckles, nodding. He’s really, _really_ attractive and Tooru thinks to himself that he might ask him out for dinner even without knowing his name because _fuck_ , he’d love to see this guy first thing in the morning and be the one who gets to hear him whispering sweet nothings in his ear in the middle of the night and _ugh_ , he might be going insane. He notices he’s staring when the guy arches his eyebrows, a smug expression on his face.

“Like what you see?” He asks in a playful tone and Tooru swears he’ll die before his clothes are done.

“You can’t use a line on me when I already used it on you,” he whines. “You’re no fun…”

“Iwaizumi,” the guy says all of a sudden. “Iwaizumi Hajime.”

Tooru smiles sweetly at him – a sight that would’ve definitely looked a lot better if he was, well, dressed – and he does his best to smile back. It’s a weird situation, something people would brush off as stupid, impossible even. Yet, here they are.

“Iwa-chan, then,” he giggles childishly.

“Don’t call me that,” he sighs, shaking his head.

“I’ll take you out.” Tooru smirks. “ _Iwa-chan!”_

“I told you already–”

“I’m Oikawa Tooru,” he interrupts. “Nice to meet you, Iwa-chan.”

“I _told_ you…”

“Where would you like to go?” He interrupts him once again. He can see how pissed off _Iwa-chan_ is and that only makes him want to tease him some more. “I thought maybe a nice dinner? At, like, one of those fancy restaurants? But then you’d have to wait until I get paid. Or we could just go out for ramen or something like that. Maybe we could even go out drinking or…”

Iwaizumi Hajime has a nice laugh, Tooru learns. It’s deep and kind of rough but it’s one of the most beautiful sounds he has ever heard. It echoes through the empty laundromat along with the constant buzzing coming from the working machines and it also does something to Tooru’s body because all of a sudden he feels like his knees might just give out from under him. Iwaizumi Hajime should be illegal, he thinks, because he’s too good to be true.

“You’re a real weirdo,” he says as if he didn’t just throw an insult at Tooru.

“You’re _mean_ , Iwa-chan,” Tooru pouts.

“You’re the one who’s going around giving people weird nicknames as soon as you meet them,” he reasons. “You also called me a murderer with absolutely no proof. You’re really out there living your life on the edge, aren’t you?”

Tooru opens his mouth, but he can’t really find the right words to retort.

“What if I was really a murderer?” He goes on, a nasty smirk on his face. “You would’ve been killed and that’s it, you know? Would you be happy with that?”

“I would let you kill me, Iwa-chan,” it comes out before he can even think about it. The disgusted look Iwaizumi shoots at him is enough to have him blushing.

“Gross,” he chuckles, shaking his head.

He tries to think of something to retort when Iwaizumi’s washing machine halts just as the one next to him does as well. He mutters something to himself, something Tooru can’t quite understand, and turns his back to him, crouching a bit to grab his basket. He can’t help but notice the broad shoulders and firm muscles – and, maybe, wonder how they’d feel like under his touch, how it would feel like to trace them with his fingertips and, maybe, just maybe, feel them as they were working on, well, something else.

That wasn’t a very good idea, though, because now he’s definitely feeling blood rushing down and that’s obviously a terrible thing to happen when you’re alone in a laundromat in the middle of the night with a complete stranger while you’re only in your underwear. Right? Absolutely. He turns around quickly and tries to grab his clothes as fast as humanly possible. All the blood was rushing down now and _fuck_ , if it wasn’t the most embarrassing thing that had ever happened to him. Iwaizumi doesn’t seem to notice, though, fully concentrated on getting his clothes out of the washing machine. _Thank the heavens for gory horror plays_ , Tooru thinks to himself.

It’s only when he’s already got his pants on that Iwaizumi turns around and then halts for a second. Of course it would be weird to see him in work clothes when he just saw him half-naked in rocket ship underwear, but Tooru was expecting something a little less… _intense?_ Not that the eyeing down, mouth hanging open kind of surprise was bad, not at all, it was just not really helping the fact that his brain might be completely deprived of blood now. His dick hurts and he’s sure he’ll pass out from the lack of circulation.

“You look very different when you’re clothed,” he comments while walking towards the drying machines. “Well, half-clothed. What’s up with you and avoiding clothes, anyway?”

Tooru wants to punch him in the face, but two can play that game. “Maybe I just want to lure you in with my amazing body so that I can do whatever I want with you, Iwa-chan.”

“Right,” he nods as he throws his clothes in. As if Tooru just commented about the fucking weather. _This guy._ “But you’ll have to buy me dinner first, you know?’

Iwaizumi turns around and smiles cheekily at Tooru and he thinks his heart definitely stopped , because all of a sudden he can’t feel his legs. He wants to say that _yeah, of course, I’ll do whatever the fuck you want me to do, I’m all yours_ or something equally embarrassing. He doesn’t, though, because the words don’t come out and all he does is stand there with his mouth hanging open, knees bucking from under him and _fuck, his dick hurts._

“I need your number,” he blurts out all of a sudden. Iwaizumi looks at him wide-eyed, arched eyebrows and all, and he feels the familiar heat rising up to his cheeks. _At least the blood’s not going to my dick anymore_ , he thinks. “I mean! I’ll buy you dinner, of course. I promised and all, and a man doesn’t go back on his words!”

Iwaizumi is still staring at him in disbelief. His eyes are the prettiest things Tooru has ever seen.

“But for that I need your number,” he goes on. “For, you know, communication purposes. I swear I don’t have any ulterior motives or anything.”

“You don’t?” He sounds almost disappointed and Tooru can’t help but beam. Iwaizumi snorts, shaking his head. “You’re so predictable, Shittykawa.”

“That’s _mean_ , Iwa-chan!”

“Do you prefer Crappykawa, then?” He chuckles and Tooru can’t help but chuckle along.

“So… about that number?” Tooru winks.

Iwaizumi sighs, shaking his head. He grabs his phone from his back pocket, mouth shut tightly in a straight line, an ugly frown on his face as if he’s troubled by something – but when he looks back at Tooru, holding out his phone, he’s smiling.

* * *

Tooru didn’t even bother to take off his clothes before jumping on his bed and grabbing his phone from his pocket. He had lots of unread messages and he needed to recharge it quickly if he wanted to go through them at all. Sprawled across his bed, Tooru squints at the screen while looking through his messages – he doesn’t want to talk to Makki or to whoever else is trying to bug him this late at night.

He tries to ignore the fluffy, slightly inebriant feeling that suddenly climbs up his spine and fails miserably as he sees his name on the screen. He tries to ignore the butterflies flying around his body when he touches the screen and the chat pops up.

_Just making sure you won’t forget about the dinner you’re supposed to pay for, Crappykawa._

_Text me when you get home so I know you’re safe._

A pleased smile tugs his lips up and Tooru doesn’t even try to pretend it’s about something else. There’s no need to. Iwa-chan sent him cutesy little texts – if he could only erase the _Crappykawa_ , that is. It makes him insanely happy. He wonders if that’s what people call love at first sight.

Only a few seconds later, his phone buzzes on his hand and his heart almost stops for a good three seconds before his eyes focus long enough for him to read the new texts he got. Iwa-chan is clingy, he notices. He likes it.

_Don’t just ignore someone, you dork_ it says

_I look forward to meeting you tomorrow, then :)_ it says.

Tomorrow won’t be a bad day – and he won’t even need his rocket ship underwear to make sure of that. And, if the thinks about it, maybe today wasn’t all that bad. Except for the ruined pants and the fact that he had to be half-naked in a laundromat at two in the morning. Yeah, okay, today was a horrible day.

But he met the most beautiful man in the world and he was having dinner with him sometime soon. And maybe he’d have some other things somewhere down the line as well. Maybe tomorrow’s forecast would say _bad day with good Iwa-chan bits_. He’s looking forward to that.

**Author's Note:**

> because of course oikawa would non-ironically wear rocket ship underwear


End file.
